Turnabout
by Hamilcar
Summary: Harry feels jealous, Peter tries to help a friend in need and what starts as a joke becomes a lot more complicated. ASM Comic-verse, H/P.
1. Chapter 1

"Wait… is he your boyfriend?"

Harry hadn't meant for the off-handed remark to sound as angry as it did. He'd meant to play it as teasing, even if there was a real undercurrent of anxiety. But the way Peter said that what he had with Spider-Man was 'something else,' his tone of voice, sparked a flame of irritation at Peter, at their situation, which Harry had thought he'd long stamped out.

_No way,_ he thought, _no fucking way was Peter screwing the spider. Not when he had…_

"What?" Peter's disbelieving remark derailed Harry's train of though.

"Well that would explain a lot," Harry replied quickly to cover.

"He's not my…"

"Like all your girl troubles," he interrupted.

"Like you're one to talk?" Peter scoffed. "Didn't you tell me you just got done with marriage number three? You weren't gone that long Harry. Two and three couldn't have lasted more than a few months."

Harry flushed. "I thought I was in love! And anyway, when did this conversation become about me? You're the one running after some guy in a skin tight suit taking pictures all the time, got his number programmed into your cell, apparently he drops everything when you're involved…"

"Why are you so angry, Harry?" Peter asked nervously.

_He thinks I'm becoming the Goblin again,_ Harry realized with an equal measure of hurt and relief. He didn't want Peter to distrust him or think he was going down that mad path again, where the only light at the end of the tunnel was a train called Norman. But having Peter suspect the worst was better than having him suspect… other things.

"You said we were friends," Harry snapped.

"We are! I just told you that."

"Well I don't see how you can… how you can take up with somebody like that." Harry tried to relax but his jaw kept clenching of its own accord. "What is he to you?"

"Nothing, Harry! A meal ticket, a…"

"A meal ticket comes out to deal with my family problems because you call?" He struggled to keep his voice low, but it wasn't easy.

"What's this about?" Peter looked him in the eyes and Harry felt his stomach turn.

Long ago, so long ago, he'd thought he'd dealt with all of it, moved on from his stupid crushes. Peter had been with Mary Jane, he'd been with Liz, all should have been right with the world. Except in his stupid, fucked-up world it wasn't and never would be right.

"I'm no fan of Spider-Man, you know that Pete," he murmured. "He stole my father from me."

"Harry, your father would have found something else to absorb him, mania and costumes notwithstanding. You were never his priority."

_But he stole you too, _Harry thought but never said. _Stole you before I even had a chance. _

"Anyway, you know I'm under a lot of stress, obviously, with Liz and the elections and everything." He exhaled. "Guess it was getting to me, that's all. And having him show up here today really set me off."

"It's alright." Peter patted him on the back and Harry felt like he wanted to cry. "I understand."

_Like hell you do._ "Anyway," Harry went on, "I got the ring from Liz."

"Oh."

"I'm going to propose to Lily." He looked Peter in the eyes, an unnecessary challenge to the other man, but Peter's only reflected confusion and worry.

"Well, that's… I mean… good!" He gave Harry a weak smile.

"We've been having some rough times lately, but I think it will pass after the election."

"And you really wanna be with her," Peter said flatly.

"Might as well." Harry scoffed. "If it doesn't work out, I'll just bring the divorce count up to four."

"Harry…"

"Yes?" Harry looked towards him eagerly, able to tell when Peter was edgy or nervous about something.

"Are you sure Lily's right for you?"

"What does that mean?" Harry whispered and worried that the sound of his head thudding in his chest would rise about the sound of his voice. Peter didn't want him to get married, Peter's own relationships had broken apart, maybe he wasn't far off the mark…

"There are just things I've y'know, heard about her fidelity and stuff. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Oh. Rumors," Harry sneered. "Those are always around."

Peter looked at him doubtfully. "I don't know…"

"Peter," he sighed, "what are you trying to say? Because it feels like you're lying to me about something."

"I…" He stuck his hand behind his head and began playing with his hair, a sure sign of unease. "Harry, I don't know if I should…"

"Tell me!" Harry wanted to beg, wanted to hope.

"Lily kissed me," Peter sighed. "When we were ransacking that destroyed office, while you were off getting the Prometheus stuff. And she said she wondered if she picked the wrong man."

And just as easily hope came crashing down, like a tower of blocks built too high, too fast. Not only was Peter's heterosexuality once again confirmed, but at the expense of Harry's girlfriend's fidelity. Harry wanted to grit his teeth until they were calcified dust.

"I didn't want it and I didn't want to hurt you but I…"

"Let's go home, Peter." Harry stood up. "Alright? Let's just go home." He strode over to the car, brain buzzing, and got in with a slam of the door. Peter joined him a moment later, still looking pitiful and apologetic.

"It was an accident. It wasn't supposed to… I'm not trying to steal her."

_Well that's a relief. You don't want to take anybody around me, but you don't want me either. _Harry fumbled with the keys until he finally jammed the ignition. It wasn't until the car was humming beneath him that he finally calmed.

"It's fine, Peter. It's fine. Doesn't matter."

They drove the rest of the way back in silence until they pulled up in front of Peter's apartment complex. Before getting out, Peter turned to him one last time, still worried, still fretting.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Alright?" Harry scoffed. "Pete, when I have ever been alright? But if you're talking about the Lily thing…" He was pissed at Lily, pissed at Peter, at his father, at Liz, as his whole shitty life that gave him every privilege except the chance to live the life he wanted.

_Fuck that. _

He leaned over and kissed Peter, turning the other man's head gently to face his own and meeting with no resistance due to Peter's surprise.

"Turnabout is fair play," he whispered. "So now Lily and I are even."

"Harry!" Peter's eyes were wide, but Harry didn't look to see what emotion he would find. "I…"

"You can get out of the car."

"But Lily…" He stammered and Harry knew he was working to connect the dots.

"I'll propose and there will be a huge, ostentatious ceremony after which she'll cheat and I'll be miserable, and we'll get to have a loveless marriage like everybody else until it finally culminates in a messy divorce. Assuming my father doesn't kill one or the both of us somewhere down the line. Who are we to expect more?"

"Harry, I'm…"

"Just go," Harry sighed, tapping the wheel with impatience, sensing that the moment had gone on too long already. Peter stepped out but Harry kept his eyes fixed on the road. "Don't mention this again, alright? But first…" He looked over where Peter was standing, bewildered, on the sidewalk, "Tell me the spider never got to do that."

"No, Harry," he said with a shake of his head. "Only you."

"Good. Least I didn't come in second there too."

He peeled off into the night without bothering to see if Peter watched him, went inside or did anything else. It didn't matter; his path was as laid out as the road his was driving on and he got to drift through the world, a petty man with piled on jealousies and no hope to speak of.

_But Peter hadn't rejected him and he always did like red hair and so, alright, auburn wasn't exactly flame red but it was close enough and if he could get used to the idea…_

Harry felt for the box in his pocket, the one holding Liz's ring, and struggled to pretend the last few minutes, hell the last half hour, hadn't happened. He pressed his foot on the gas and hurried back to his own home.

After all, Lily was probably waiting.

Based off a recent comic and parts of the early dialogue are from there. It was a scene that was basically too tempting to ignore.


	2. Chapter 2

~*~

It was pitch black in his bedroom when Harry felt a draft that stirred him out of his slumber. He turned to see a figure in his window, framed by the ever-present light of the city. It too a moment of two for his brain to start functioning, but he soon realized the figure was wearing red and blue.

"Shit!" He bolted upright and held up his hands. "I didn't think he was gonna send you! Look, I know I was a little inappropriate with Pete, but I'll talk to him tomorrow. Okay? There's really no need to do anything. I didn't really mean it anyway. Oh shit, please don't hurt me. Look, I saw what you did with Mark and I swear, I wasn't out to hurt Peter. I was a little angry. That's it. I can't…"

"Calm down, Harry." Spider-Man stepped inside his room and tugged off his mask. "It's me. Peter."

"Peter?" Harry could feel the confusion that creased his face. "Spider-Man let you borrow his suit? Did he drop you off on my balcony or something."

"No, Harry," he sighed, rubbing the arch of his nose. "Think about it."

"You stole Spider-Man's suit so nobody would see you sneaking in? You're trying to frame Spider-Man as a service to me? You're trying to give me a heart attack to pay me back for earlier?"

"Harry, I _am_ Spider-Man," he said, stretching out his arms. "That's why he – well, I – showed up so quickly at Liz's house. And I'm not sleeping with me. Well, uh, unless you count what I do… look, what I'm saying is that I can't be my own boyfriend. Not possible."

"Oh." His face was hot and Harry guess that he was blushing, even if Peter couldn't see it in the darkened room. "Now that you come out and say it, it seems really obvious."

"Yeah, well I did some… stuff to keep people from finding out," he said, walking over to the bed.

"Like what?" Harry moved aside to make room for Peter to sit.

"It's complicated. And I didn't come here to talk about that."

"So, uh, what did you come here for?" Harry looked at him apprehensively as Peter fidgeted.

"You drove off pretty fast today," Peter began.

"Didn't think you'd want me sticking around," Harry answered cautiously.

"Well, it was a bit of a shock."

"Yeah, well so's this," Harry shot back, tugging on the spandex.

"Alright. Fair enough." Peter carefully avoided looking at Harry. "Look, I don't want to make too much of this. But it's been a while for me and you are my best friend so I was wondering what you would think if we maybe did… you know."

"I know what?"

"If I maybe did stuff to you. Or you did it to me. You didn't really specify what you liked in between bitterly railing at Lily and trying to get away as quickly as you could."

"Wait a minute. Are you asking me if I want to _sleep_ with you?"

"Kinda."

"Peter… really you don't have to do this. I appreciate that trying to cheer me up. But this is going a little far, don't you think? I mean, you're straight."

"I can be flexible!" Peter looked back at him, then away again. "No pun intended. Look, I am, but I like you and you're my friend and, well… like I said, it's been a while. And if it makes you happy, I though well why not?"

"A one night stand," said Harry flatly. "Peter Parker is propositioning me for a one night stand."

"Well if you don't want to…"

"I didn't say _that_. I can't believe you're suggesting it, that's all. You've always seemed like you wanted a relationship."

"I do. But I've had my moments of occasional indulgence."

"Like when?"

"Now and again. The thing with Betty. Once or twice with Feli… look, does it really matter? I didn't break into your house in the middle of the night to talk about my past. I'm trying to cheer you up."

"Nothing to do with your own frustration?" Harry scoffed.

"Alright, fine. Ha ha. Let's make fun of Peter's inability to get a date. If that's how you're going to act then I'm leaving," Peter said, lifting the mask to his face.

"Only kidding. Come on, sit back down. Give me a minute." Harry shook his head. "This is just a little surreal, you know?"

"Well I didn't think you'd want anything too serious. I mean, neither of us do, right? I wouldn't think you'd want to anyway. But I thought maybe this would make you a little happier at least for the moment."

Harry exhaled. "This seems like it could be a really, really bad idea, you know?"

"And that's something new for us? Do you know how many really bad ideas both of us have had? And I can't remember one time when those bad ideas were ever accompanied by…"

"Orgasm?" Harry interjected.

"Yeah, that," said Peter, sounding embarrassed again. "So what's it going to be?"

"Well… yes? I guess? I mean, I might never get a chance like this again. Might as well take it, right?"

"Alright then." A smile flickered on Peter's features. "Now how do you want to do this?"

Harry started unbuttoning his shirt, glad to the darkness that still hid the returning flush. "I know this is probably going to seem weird."

"No more than anything else that's ever happened to me. But go on."

"Those things work, right?" Harry asked, pointed to Peter's wrists as he got rid of his pajama shirt.

"My web shooters? Of course they do. How else do you think I got up your building?" Harry mumbled and Peter looked confused. "Come again?"

"I _said_, maybe you could use them a little."

"On you?"

"I like a strong personality!" Harry blurted defensively.

"Okay." Peter pulled off his own suit, leaving the shooters on. "I'm assuming this means I'm on top too?" Harry nodded. "Alright. We're doing this," he said, sliding the lower portion of the costume off. "We're really doing this."

"Yeah, we are," Harry said, wide-eyed as Peter clumsily stumbled over him. "You're really a good friend, you know that?" He mumbled and pulled Peter down into a kiss. "Always there. You always listen." He pressed against Peter's lips over and over. "I feel like I'm worth something when I'm with you. I feel like I matter."

"You do," Peter assured him. "Otherwise how else could we have stayed friends? Everything we've been through…"

"I know," Harry said, letting go of Peter's neck to move to his own waistband. "When I first came back, when you walked away from me, I can't tell you how scared I felt. Like I'd really messed things up, like it was the worst thing I'd ever…" He stopped mid-sentence and looked at Peter. "Shit! If you're Spider-Man, that means I…"

"Forget it. We dealt with it." This time Peter was the one who leaned down and kissed. "You're not wearing underwear?"

"I was in bed! I didn't think I needed to."

"It does make things easier." Peter carefully took Harry's wrists. "You're sure you want me to do this?"

A bright look came into Harry's eye and he felt himself twitch. "I'm sure."

"I can see that." Peter coughed. "Right." He squirted web fluid, binding one hand and then the other to the bed posts. "Is that good? Not too tight?"

"Yeah. Perfect." Harry gave the webs an experimental tug. "Damn, Pete, these things are strong."

"They have to be to web swing. So I'm guessing I should do fingers first?"

"Only if you don't want me to scream like a girl."

"Alright. Do you have any…"

"Nightstand."

"Got it. Good. I'm going to put the first one in, okay? Try and relax."

"Right now I think you're more tense than me."

"I told you, it's been a while!"

"Well that's what we're doing here. Ah! Are you…"

"Yeah, it's all the way. Need a moment? Or are you good for another?"

"Keep going," Harry gasped, looking up.

"If you say so." Peter pressed in and felt a nudge.

"Do you think you could do something about that?" Harry tried to sit up to look at Peter. "I'd take care of it myself, but my hands are a little tied up at the moment."

"You're hilarious," said Peter with a roll of his eyes. "But I don't have a free hand. I'll lose my balance."

"Then make one free!"

"Are you…"

"Come on, already!" Harry said impatiently.

"Okay! Here goes. Don't say I didn't warn you."

For a brief second, Peter took his hands off. Then in the next moment, he had pressed in and was everywhere – inside him, around him, holding him, touching, stroking, kissing, everything at once.

"Holy _shit_ Pete," he managed to grunt.

"Are you okay?"

Harry responded incoherently and Peter grinned as he kept pushing them both further along. And even once they'd both finished, it wasn't long before Peter was up and ready to go again. The cycle repeated, at least as far as Peter went, until the webbing around Harry's wrists dissolved and Peter lowered his limp limbs carefully onto the bed.

"I think I might have underestimated you, Pete," Harry panted.

"You liked, then?" Peter asked, nudging Harry over.

"Yeah." He twisted his head. "I know you wanted this to be a one-time thing…"

"That was the idea."

"…but that felt amazing. I thought I should ask. Would you mind very much if we did this again?"

"Is this going to become a regular thing?" Peter asked nervously.

"I don't know." He paused. "I mean, even if it is, that doesn't mean that it means anything, right?"

"No. I guess not. It doesn't _have_ to."

"Then we should be able to do this a few more times without having to worry, right? As long as we're careful."

"Sure. Alright." Peter nodded. "I mean, I liked it too. Sure, then."

"Good." Harry grinned. "Because I really enjoyed it." Peter laugh and the grin evaporated. "What's funny?"

"Your hair." Peter reached up and slid his fingers through Harry's scalp. "You have the most ridiculous hair, you know that? And after twisting around on your bed like that, it's sticking up in strange places."

"It's from dad's side of the family," he groaned. "I know it looks bad."

"You should grow it out," said Peter, tossing around on the pillow. "At least the color's good though."

"Your type, right?" Said Harry, keeping a careful distance on the other side of the bed. Sex was one thing, but cuddling was probably a bad idea.

"Yeah," he laughed. "I guess so." He shifted and shut his eyes. "I need a little sleep, alright? But I promise I'll be gone when you get up, before Lily or anybody else gets here."

"Thanks," said Harry, questioning how much he meant that.

"Good night then," Peter blurted, the situation growing awkward again.

"Good night," said Harry, trying to hold on to every image and sensation and hoping they'd replay in his dreams.

~*~

A/N: Some people wanted a continuation. So here it is. There might be a few more chapters. And if you'd like to see that, leave a review and let me know.


	3. Chapter 3

~*~

Harry had expected from the outset, given his track record, that things were going to go downhill in his relationship with Lily at some point. Had gambling been his vice instead of drinking, he would have bet money on it. What he couldn't have foreseen, and wondered later if he was blind not to, was the disastrous way it would plunge downward.

Menace. Lily was Menace, she was a killer she was… she was still expecting to _marry_ him, he thought with a lurch. And now all he could think about was how he got himself into this mess and how badly he wanted out of it. He wanted to be saved from it, wanted a hero to swing in and take him away from all the expectation and the madness and the Goblin…

But Peter wasn't there to save him. Peter was in prison, Harry thought as he looked at the rows of weaponry, the gliders and masks. He would take care of Lily first. The formula and its effects were his priority because they were his responsibility. But then Peter, he promised himself as he pulled his mask on over his face. Even if Peter objected, even if it was far too obvious, he was not going to let his friend, his lo… his whatever die in a prison because the police were idiots.

Of course, when he tracked Lily down he found her whaling on Peter and was able to conveniently kill two birds with one stone. He did not stay to watch her face the police and the consequences of her actions. Instead he scooped Peter up and took them to a convenient rooftop.

"Here, catch your breath," Harry said, panting himself. "Oh, God Peter. Oh God, I think I… I messed up bad, this time." He sank down onto the roof with his head in his hands. "Not good, Pete, not good!"

"Harry…" Peter coughed. "Harry, why are you wearing the mask?"

"I had to," he muttered. "To take care of business. Harry isn't strong enough, but like this…"

"Bullshit, Harry!" Peter protested, and then grabbed his aching ribs. "Harry, don't do this. _Please_ don't do this."

"I was saving you!" Harry protested. "I had to! I… I swear, Peter, it was just this once. I'm not going mad. I don't think I'm going mad, I'm almost sure…" He lifted his head up and looked over. "Come here, Peter."

"We're on a rooftop! Don't you think somebody might notice?"

"Nobody will see. I just… I need… _please_, Peter."

Peter staggered over and held Harry. "This is going to be fine. It will be alright. It's all going to work out, you'll see…"

"She mocked me!" He sobbed. "She's just like my father, every insecurity I've ever had… it's like I can't even feel if I want to be taken seriously. But I'm not that weak, I sweat I'm not that… I thought I had something with her. And even if I didn't and even if it wasn't all that I really wanted, I don't wanted ridicule."

"Easy now," Peter whispered and tugged his mask up. "Easy." He pressed his lips against Harry's, though it took the other man a moment before he reciprocated. Then, exhausted, Peter slumped into his arms.

"Sorry," Harry muttered. "Wasn't thinking. You must be in a ton of pain right now. I'll get you back to my place, get you cleaned up."

"You sure that's safe?" Peter winced, picking at a scab. "I could follow you a little later, you know. I think I can still swing, as long as I don't run into anything along the way."

"You're sure?" Harry asked doubtfully. "I don't want to leave you alone and then hear tomorrow that you smeared yourself across the side of a building. I've filled my daily awful news about my life quota for about the next three months." He traced Peter's jaw through the mask. "Seriously, Peter, you're the only good thing I have in my life right now. I want to be sure that you're alright at least."

"I'll make, it," he promised. "Although, if it isn't too much to ask, could you make sure you've got some painkillers? A bath would be nice too."

"Anything," Harry smiled and secured his mask, giving Peter a quick kiss, rubber to fabric, before climbing back on to the glider in a resigned fashion. "You're sure…"

"I'm fine Harry." He clasped his shoulder. "Promise."

~*~

Harry was already out of the suit, washed and in a robe by the time Peter arrives. Peter looked around to see where it had gone and Harry noticed him looking.

"I burned it," he said, laying back on the couch. "Didn't want the temptation." He looked down at the cup of coffee he was holding. "Thought that would be best."

"Probably," Peter said, taking off his own mask. "Feeling any better?"

"Cleaner. On the outside, anyway." Harry groaned. "I just… I can't figure out where I keep going wrong. I feel like I'm cursed, like my father and everything that came from him is a shadow that I can't get away from. You know?"

"I know," Peter said, "And I don't know what to tell you. But if it means anything, I think you're stronger than that." His fingers, still gloved in red and blue, pushed through Harry's curls.

"It feels like I ought to be crying right now. But nothing is…" He looked at Peter with eyes only partially damp. "I mean, there are some things I can still hold on to. _Right?_"

"Uh, yeah. Right." Peter whispered. A moment of embarrassed silence passed between them before Peter coughed. "So, about that shower?"

"Down the hall, when you're ready. Plenty of hot water left. And I'll get you some meds from the cabinet in the kitchen; maybe bring out the first aid kit too."

"Thanks."

It took Peter over half an hour to finally feel clean again and he was still sore in places that he hadn't been for a long, long while. After the prisoners, Lily had packed one hell of a punch. But Harry was waiting with water and Tylenol and the shower had been long and hot the whole time, which was more than he could have hoped for at his now-vacant apartment.

Dressed in a robe like Harry's with gauze covering substantial portions of his skin, he sat down next to Harry who turned to him with expectation. Peter swallowed the medication and smiled ruefully at him.

"Can't promise much. But I'll do my best," he promised.

"We don't have to. I mean, do you want anything to eat first? I could order something. And I… Pete, is it okay to keep doing this? Now?" He was afraid to talk about it, but the terrifying prospect of what Lily's abrupt exit stage left had changed loomed in front of them. Instead of keeping them from being together, his relationship with Lily had evolved into something that drove him _towards_ Peter. If nothing else, Peter was refuge, an excuse, a dream that Harry was beginning to delude himself might actually come true.

"It's fine Harry," Peter said, letting the robe fall off of his shoulders. "Everything is fine, really. I'm good, I'm… are _you_ sure this is a good idea?" He gulped nervously. "You've just had a pretty large emotional shock. Maybe you should take time before we get into this. Get things emotionally sorted out before we…"

"Before we what?"

"Go making another emotional mess."

"Is that was this is? A mess?" Harry turned away, looking cross. "Pete, I want this. I _need_ this to… I want to feel like there's still somebody left in this whole damn world who cares about me for some reason beyond money and connections and who my father was or what alimony I owe them. I want to feel like I'm _worth_ something."

"Do you need me to tell you that?" Peter asked quietly.

"Will it make me weak if I say yes?" Harry turned back.

"Alright then," Peter nodded. "Alright." He pulled Harry to him and kissed him. The whole situation still had bad idea written all over it, but now that they were going down the road Peter wasn't sure how they could stop. Harry had already pulled out the mask again. Who knew what he might do if he collapsed completely? It was an unpleasant weight to think that Harry's well-being rested on his consent, that if he didn't show interest in Harry sexually, he might lose him as anything, even as a friend, altogether.

"Sorry," Harry groaned. "I'm selfish. I'm sorry. I'm trying…" He pushed against Peter's chest. "Maybe you _should_ go. I need to think about this. I need to…"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not sure of anything." He got up and started to pace. "There are things I want to ask but I'm so afraid of the answers. And I'm uneasy but that's better than disappointment. You know?"

"Maybe the people you want to ask don't know the answers either," Peter responded. "And maybe everything is just as confusing to them." He walked up behind him and took his waist. "Give it time and…"

"And what? We can pretend Lily never happened? My father will disappear out of my life forever?" _You'll love me?_

"And things will get better. I swear." His hands slipped away and his hastily put on some spare clothes Harry had set out. He was gone while Harry was still standing stock still. And when he'd vanished, Harry sighed.

"Get better. Sure."

~*~

Peter was all geared up to go with Reed, double checking his equipment. The call had been a surprise, but he welcomed it as something to do – and a way to get paid, now that Vin wasn't helping with the rent. But as he climbed onto the window ledge, he heard his phone click and start recording a message. For a moment he hesitated, and a slurred voice came through.

"Peeeete?" Harry's voice, Peter realized. Shit. "Pete, think I did somethin' stupid… Gotta help me, Pete… Pete, _please_…"

Sighing, he crawled back inside and started to take of the costume. He would have to call Reed, whom he was sure was going to be disappointed. But there were some things, some people he felt responsible for, and Harry was quickly becoming the first among them.

~*~


End file.
